"And Charity Whitehall," Abby went on.
He glanced up at the formidable woman, who kept one eye on him while she dropped back into her chair. "Of course you must know Esther Knight,"
Abby prodded, indicating the still mumbling woman on his right. "The preacher's wife?"
Samuel shook his head. The woman gave him a tremulous smile and her lips finally stopped moving. She must have been praying, Samuel told himself in disgust. And who could blame her? She probably thought they were being attacked!
"And this is Mary Smith, the schoolteacher," Abby finished lamely. Then she looked down and cried, "Oh, my heavens!"
Samuel followed her gaze and noticed that the schoolteacher was still on the floor, her eyes closed.
Abby rushed over to the fallen woman and began to pat her wrists with more impatience than gentleness. "She's fainted. Minerva, what should we do?"
Minerva sighed. Glancing down at the prostrate woman, she said, "Just leave her be, Abby. She'll come around directly. Looks comfortable right where she is."
"Do you really think &mdash ?"
"Minerva's right," Charity said, throwing in her two cents' worth. "That woman's keeled over more times than a drunk on Saturday night. She wears her stays too damn tight is all."
"Oooh!" Esther fanned a lace handkerchief in front of her flushed face. "Charity, you mustn't mention a lady's uh, uh… " She looked at Samuel meaningfully.
Charity's lips twisted. "For corn's sake, Esther! Everybody knows that females wear corsets! And some of 'em tie 'em too tight!"
"Yes, but &mdash"
"Let her be, Charity." Minerva shot her friend a warning look. "If she don't want to talk about them things, then don't worry her any."
Samuel's breath was much more even now. But he agreed with the preacher's wife. He wished to hell everyone would stop talkin' about ladies' underwear!
While the three women waited for the schoolmarm to come around, Samuel took a few quick seconds to study his cabin. There was even more gewgaws around the place than there was yesterday. Abby clearly seemed to be diggin' in for a long stay. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she helped the teacher back into her chair. Concerned gentleness flowed from her as she urged a cup of coffee on the tall, plain woman. The schoolmarm kept directing worried glances at Samuel, but she managed to sip at her drink, and Samuel was pleased to see spots of color return to the woman's cheeks.
He snapped out of his daydreaming when Abby set a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. With the interested gazes of the ladies locked on him, Samuel gingerly lifted the small china cup. His fingers were far too large to fit through the impossibly tiny handle, so he was left to grip it tightly and hope for the best.
Before he could wonder where the damn thing had come from, Abby was telling him, "I was so pleased to find that my mother's china teacups had survived my journey. You know, I had to wrap them up in my clothes to protect them!"
"Still," Minerva added as she reached for another cookie, "with the way those stage coaches ride, it's a wonder that they weren't all broken!"
Thankfully, the conversation picked up from there. The women went right on talking as if Samuel weren't there. Occasionally, though, one or the other of them would pass him the cookie plate and ask a question that only required him to nod or shake his head.
Samuel finally felt himself relaxing. In fact, he was almost pleased to find the women there in the cabin. He'd been so worried about being alone with Abby after he'd watched her in her bath, that company was nearly a blessing.
"What do you think, Samuel?"
"Huh?" His head snapped up, and he turned quickly toward Minerva.
"We were talkin' about the barn raisin'."
"Barn raisin'?" he echoed, swearing at himself silently for not listening.
But the older woman was clearly used to speaking with men. Shaking her head as if to say that it didn't surprise her any that his attention had wandered, she repeated, "The Coles'? Over in the valley the other side of the mountain?"
Samuel's brow furrowed, then he nodded uneasily.
"Well, we was plannin' a barn raisin'." Minerva looked him dead in the eye. "Theirs burned down two weeks back, and they're gonna need some shelter for the animals before winter."
"Yeah?" Samuel said, his head cocked. He had a feeling he was about to be roped into something.
"Abby here" &mdash Minerva jerked her head at the younger woman &mdash "said that you might be willin' to help out."
Slowly Samuel's head swiveled around, and he stared at Abby. He couldn't believe it. Wasn't it enough that she'd taken over his home? Did she have to run his life, too?
"Is that right?" he asked quietly.
Abby met his gaze squarely. She smiled at him, and despite his intentions, Samuel felt himself weakening.
"Oh, Samuel," she said excitedly, "I knew you'd want to help your friends. Why, you're so clever at fixing things." She turned to the ladies. "Just yesterday he fixed the pump, and he did it so quickly, it was startling!"
He closed his eyes. For godsake, it was just a broken pump handle! "And Samuel, as strong as you are, I just know that you'll be needed desperately." His eyes opened again to find her looking at him hopefully. "Minerva's told me about the Coles' troubles. They've only been married a year, you know."
"That right," he said quietly.
"Yes," she went on, flashing him a pleased smile, "and already they've had more than their share of problems. What with the barn fire and their new bull dying and now Mrs. Cole is with child and… "
He nodded.
Minerva picked up where Abby left off, and Samuel turned to the older woman.
"Yes, well. We all have our troubles. But the point is, Samuel… " She paused. "You don't mind me callin' you Samuel, do you?"
He shook his head.
"The point is, Samuel, we need your help. Like Abby says, you're a right strong man. My man Alonzo and the others will be there, of course."
Samuel wondered for a moment if the menfolk knew what their women were up to. Minerva answered that question with her next breath.
"And they say they'd be right pleased to have you."
Samuel sat back against his chair and chewed another cookie. Quickly his brain worked. He'd lived on the mountain for six months. He'd been into Rock Creek at least a dozen times, and he couldn't remember one time when anyone even spoke to him. And now they were comin' to his house and askin' him to be part of a barn raisin'.
He reached for another cookie and avoided the eyes of the waiting women. He had to think about this for a minute. In all those trips to town, he asked himself, did he ever once try to talk to anybody? No. He hadn't. But even if he had, he knew no one would have answered. It would have been the same as everywhere else.
And now, because of Abby, he was bein' dragged right into the middle of everyone's danged business!
He hid a smile. For some reason, the idea pleased him. Then he remembered his mother's warning. But this time the words sounded weak and far away. Maybe she'd been wrong, he told himself. Maybe he could be around people.
Maybe.
Was it worth finding out? Should he really bother trying again? His gaze swept the women's faces.
They were all watching him. Waiting. And suddenly Samuel knew that he would have to take the chance. If he was wrong… if he found out once and for all that his mother had been right about him… well, there were other mountains.
"All right," he finally said. "I'll help."
Abby's hands clapped together. Minerva and Charity exchanged knowing looks, and the preacher's wife, Esther, started in to mumbling again. But Samuel only had eyes for Abby. Her pleased smile and glowing face as she looked at him were worth taking a risk or two.
He only hoped that she wouldn't be disappointed. As for himself, he'd given up long ago any hope for folks to treat him like anybody else.
Some female always took one look at him and fainted Older men were forever skittering sideways to get out of his way… And young men always tried to find a way to pick a fight, desperate to prove themselves men.
It was the same everywhere. Samuel had little faith that things would be different in Rock Creek. But for Abby's sake, he would try.
Chapter Seven
She was singing again. Samuel's aching eyes focused on Abby's back as she moved about the cabin, getting breakfast on the table.
How can the woman sleep so damn good in that bed? he asked himself. He was just one short step away from madness himself. That no good bundling board idea of hers just wasn't doin' the job. Oh, he acknowledged silently, it kept their bodies from touching during the night, but it didn't do anything to his imagination! And after seeing her in the altogether yesterday, things had gotten worse.
Why, he hadn't gotten more than a few minutes sleep at a stretch all night. Samuel scowled ferociously into his coffee cup as Abby started on another song. Their arrangement didn't seem to be bothering her any.
But he couldn't spend one more night lying in the dark with her only an arm's reach away. There was only one answer. He had to build another room onto the cabin. Hell, he'd always planned on making the place bigger anyway. Even after the judge heard their case and Abby finally went home, he'd still need the extra room. It wasn't just because of Abby.
Crisp bacon and hen-fresh eggs were set in front of him, and despite his weariness, Samuel smiled. She sure as hell could cook!
As she sat down opposite him, Samuel reached for the baking powder biscuits and helped himself to some blueberry preserves.
"I'm so glad you like the preserves," Abby said. "They're Minerva's, you know. But next summer I'll put up plenty of fruits and vegetables myself."
Samuel glanced up, one eyebrow raised.
"Perhaps you could pick out just the right spot for a vegetable garden, Samuel. I'd like to be all set when spring arrives."
He didn't answer, simply reached for another biscuit.
"Oh, I know what you're thinking," Abby said.
"Hmmm?"
"You're thinking that I shouldn't go on making plans for next summer when I might not even be here for the winter."
Samuel shrugged his massive shoulders and kept his face down. He didn't want her to see what the thought of her leaving did to him.
"But I believe in planning ahead. Besides, nothing is gained by expecting the worst." She poured him another cup of coffee and handed each of the dogs a biscuit. "What are you going to do today, Samuel?"
His plate clean, Samuel took a long drink of the coffee and sat back. "I'm takin' the wagon into Wolf River."
Her brow furrowed. "A town a day's ride from here. They got a lumber mill over there."
"Oh!" She smiled. "Are you going to pick up the lumber for the barn raising?"
"No." He pushed his chair back and stood up. "The Coles'll have to do that. No, I'm goin' to get enough lumber to build another room onto the cabin."
"Samuel!" Abby jumped up and came around the table to his side. Grabbing his arm and moving toward the door, she went on, "What a wonderful idea! And I know just the place for it!"
As she pulled him through the front door, he had just enough time to grab his hat and think that he wasn't surprised in the least.
At the far side of the cabin Abby stopped. "Right here." She held her arms extended toward the side wall of the house. "It would be perfect right there. Close enough to the fireplace and with a window, I would have a lovely view of the valley! Oh, it will be so nice to have a separate kitchen!"
"Kitchen!" Samuel pulled his arm free of her grasp. Just having her hands on his arm set his body to tingling with wants he had best start ignoring. He stepped away from her and said in a low, controlled voice, "I ain't buildin' a kitchen, Abby."
"Well, for heaven's sake. Whyever not?" Hands on her hips, she faced him curiously. "It's the one thing we need."
"It ain't the one thing I need."
"What?" Her features a mask of confusion, Abby asked, "I don't understand. If we're going to make our home more comfortable, I would think it would be best to have the cooking place separate from our living area." She smiled. "It would be nice for when we have guests, not to have the cooking things sitting right out in the open."
"I'm not trying to make a comfortable home!" Samuel thrust his balled fists in his pockets. "And I don't want guests!" Abruptly he turned away. It was too difficult to think when he looked at her. He didn't know what he'd been doing yesterday when he'd allowed himself to get involved with the womenfolk and their plans. He couldn't even figure out why it was so damned important to him that Abby think well of him. But he knew that if he didn't put his foot down soon, there wouldn't be a place for him to do it. At least, not in his own home.
"Well, what exactly are you trying to do, Samuel?"
Jesus! Couldn't she see what was happening to him? Didn't she know how he suffered every night, lying alongside her in the dark? He looked at her carefully. No. She didn't know. Didn't she keep telling him how she trusted him? Didn't she keep smiling up at him, her golden eyes shining? Of course Abby didn't know. Why should she? She felt none of those things for him.
What woman would? Hell, he knew better than most that he was just a big, homely man who didn't even know how to talk to folks. He breathed deeply and felt the cold pine-scented air fill him.
Deliberately he took a moment to control his rising temper. He had no right to be angry with her. It wasn't her fault that her damn fool uncle Silas had caused so much trouble. It wasn't her fault that he, Samuel, had feelings for her that he had no right to.
After another deep breath Samuel said quietly, "I'm fixin' to build you a sleepin' room, Abby."
Her breath caught. She bit down on her bottom lip before a tiny smile curved her mouth.
"Oh, Samuel. How thoughtful of you!"
"Yeah, well… "He mumbled something incoherent and stared off into the surrounding pines. Thoughtful! Huh! Whatever gods had done this to him must be havin' a helluva laugh, he thought with disgust.